Five countries, 48 hours of nonstop traveling and sleeping on floors that you wouldn’t lay your rainy boots on…but alas, we were in Kenyan airspace.

I held on tight to the plane seat and shouted, We’re in AFRICA!

Then we hit the runway…oops. I looked at Shari, well; now we’re in Africa. Paying off customs and grabbing our bags passed in a haze of adrenaline and exhaustion mixed with a side of no sleep and hunger. Half our squad was already at the base so we loaded into the bus and began the trek to meet them. I think I shut my eyes for 27 seconds when someone said we’d arrived. 

I’ve heard quite a variety of things about African food so when I saw the potato-ish soup and flat bread-ish looking spread I thought hot dawg, let’s eat! Later I passed out on a couch with a fellow sprawler and began an intense battle of Twister. I think she won. Her legs were sprawled out and up on the wall and mine were burrowed somewhere near her face and under an armpit. 

Finally, morning.

We said goodbye to the squad and hopped into another bus with The Sheila’s. We bounced through the African countryside and I thought about sleeping. My head has a delightful little bruise on it from the repeated banging it got on the side window. We stopped and got the wind knocked out of us by the sheer beauty of the Great Rift Valley then hopped back in the vans for another 3ish hours. Funny how everything in Africa takes about triple the amount of time they say it will…

We drove and drove and went deeper into the Kenyan bush. The mountains rising from the earth were so spectacular I can’t truly describe their majesty. It’s like looking at God’s throne every morning. It’s breathtaking in a different sort of way. You truly suck in air trying to take in the beauty in just one glance. My heart races when I look at the landscape that surrounds me. 

I live the Little House on the Prairie dream out here. We were in town yesterday and had to hurry home because the cow needed milking. Everything is cooked over an open fire and the coals have to be rotated every so often to keep the tiny living room somewhat heated. Have I mentioned it’s super duper cold here? Like whip out the boots, flannels and beanies kinda cold. But it’s wonderful because I have missed cold weather like a Racer loves a good journal. So let’s do a jig and peel some taters!

There are 18 children in this family aka orphanage. Pastor Steven and his wife Jen have four biological kids and 14 orphans. One little prankster, Joseph likes to growl or roar—I’m not sure what it is and scares me quite soundly each time I venture to the porcelain palace. Oh the bathroom. Interesting how bathrooms are literally the central focus of our conversations…well that and Noah’s beard. Anyway, we have to venture quite far in the middle of the night if Mother Nature comes a callin. The first night, she called four times. I repeat four times. I was exhausted by morning. Luckily Pastor encourages us quite regularly to shrug off our American ways of needing schedules and embrace African culture. Hence wake up, eat breakfast, rest, eat lunch, rest, go to market, take tea and sleep. Bam day one, complete. 
 
I was half in reality and half in dream-town, considering another round at the bathroom when I heard Tess ask if I was awake. I said yeah and she said I just had to get up and see the stars. I mumbled some lame excuse about not having my contacts in and she said it would be so worth it. Pause. I sat up, fell off my top bunk, grabbed my glasses and sturdied myself against the blast of cold air.

Where am I?

There were stars as numerous as the sand on the seashore and brilliantly shining like nothing I have ever seen in my life. The Milky Way and every other galaxy was standing at attention in honor of their Maker and it was like this joyful procession of praise and worship in the most amazing sense. I literally couldn’t fathom how incredible it was. Then we saw a shooting star and we pretty much freaked out. The coolest thing. Ever.

Ohh baby! Welcome to Africa, everyone. It’s gonna be awesome!